These Are My Confessions

By HipHop Anonymous

Sexy is not a word I would use to describe myself. I am not a sexy puma, cougar maybe, puma no. I have sex. Not regularly, but I have it. I do not know how to be alluring and flirty, and I am bad at them. I thought I was experiencing some kind of sexual dysfunction that either required therapy or the new lady Viagra (which is just a re-branded depression medicine). I have read, and you probably have too, that depression, stress, and anxiety does affect a female’s sex drive. Add your personal insecurities and you have yourself all you need to get up and move to Frigid Lady Island. I don’t want to move there. I don’t even want to be seen as someone who could visit there.

Confession #1: I have never had an orgasm from a partner.

I have given myself plenty of orgasms. PLENTY. But with partners, my morning after routine was to text my friends “I should win an Oscar.” This is my norm. It may not necessarily be because said partner was a bad lay, I just could not get into it. I give directions, I know what I like and what my body is asking for, I just don’t get it to my satisfaction.  And any woman will tell you, sometimes you have to finish yourself. But all the time? My faking it game is so good, there are even physical cues I put to use (thank you, pornography). I don’t know why I bother with this charade since I never see that person again.

Confession #2: I have never had sex with the same person twice.

Like ever. Thanks for your service, have a good life. I don’t think this makes me a slut or repressed or anything other than what it is: my personal experience. Don’t misunderstand, I am asked for another tumble, I just don’t see the need.  I understand when you first hook-up things can be awkward and fumbly. I don’t discount that, but at this point either you know what you are doing or you don’t. I think I want a regular partner. Not because I am ready to settle down, but because meeting people sucks now. It is such a chore. Maybe a friends with benefits, maybe something more. Would getting to know the same person, getting comfortable with that person lead to better sex? I don’t know, I am curious. But what if I repeat partners and one of them discovers my shameful secret?

Confession #3: I am a squirter.

Oh you read that right. Give me quality clitoral stimulation and my mind goes blank, head rolls back and the flood gates release. Actually. Not literally or figuratively, actually. I know there are those among us who like this, but I don’t. It embarrasses me that this uncontrollable reaction is how my body expresses pleasure. When you are exasperated and burdened by the fact that you have to lay a towel down when you masturbate, what level of mortification awaits when you have to tell the person who’s face is between your thighs ‘watch out?’ Probably the kind that will kill you. Who will tell my mother that my cause of death was ‘died from embarrassment during coitus?’ Squirting takes me out of the moment and then I stop enjoying the task at hand…which sucks because

Confession #4: I am not easily turned on.

It takes a long time for me to be relaxed enough to feel sexy and excruciatingly difficult for me to see myself as desirable. This is a universal problem for everyone. You don’t feel attractive enough, you are stressed, you can’t clear your mind, etc. Our society teaches us that sex is an act of passion, an expression of love, or just bodies craving each other. It is better than thinking that sex is just for procreation (thanks for nothing Puritans). All that is well and great if you can get comfortable. I recently had a romp with someone I am seriously attracted to, and the sex was good (really really good), but I got self-conscious about my soft stomach and poof, I was out of the moment. And the Oscar goes to…

Luckily, self-pleasure was still an option. Until one day, it wasn’t. I stopped masturbating in my bedroom because I don’t have time to keep washing sheets. I moved these routines to the shower, then the tub. Still nothing. What is the mental block here? Can you imagine the special kind of hell it is to be frustrated at your sexual frustration? Do I need the lady Viagra to masturbate now? I refuse to masturbate in any other room in this house.

As I was ready to pack up all my belongings to move to Frigid Lady Island, I came across a TEDx talk titled “Unlocking the Door to You Sexual Well-Being.” The speaker, Dr. Emily Nagoski, runs a blog called The Dirty Normal. Aside from the best website header image EVER, she advocates for better sex via science. TL;DR the scientific study referenced in the TEDx talk stated that lab rats when put in a comfortable environment are more likely to react to stimuli (via an implant in the emotional center of their brain) with curiosity, not fear. This led Dr. Nagoski to the conclusion that your sexual well-being is dependent on two things, Confidence and Joy.

But how do you get from neurotic to confident and joyful? That seems like the harder part. If I figure it out, I will write an update. I know, new levels of overthinking things. All I can say is that sometimes, knowing that science backs up what you are experiencing normalizes the behavior and leads to self-acceptance. Self-acceptance leads to confidence. Confidence leads to comfort. Comfort leads to relaxation. And relaxation leads to orgasms. And orgasms lead to joy. Better sex through science!

To misquote Notting Hill: I am just a girl standing in front of a boy asking him to ‘love’ her [until her mind goes blank and her head rolls back].

 

confessions

 

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